


"Oh, this ain't actually the crisis hotline."

by military_bluebells



Series: First Meetings [5]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Ray hovered his thumb over the call button.He should really call Brad, not some fucking blue state-run crisis number, but well the main thing was, he didn’t want to die or kill himself or anything like that. He wasn’t suicidal, this was… different.A shake that wouldn’t go, a ringing in his brain that wouldn’t stop, a chill that wouldn’t leave.
Relationships: Walt Hasser & Ray Person
Series: First Meetings [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699477
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	"Oh, this ain't actually the crisis hotline."

**Author's Note:**

> **TW: decisions of mental health problems**

Ray hovered his thumb over the call button. 

He should really call Brad, not some fucking blue state-run crisis number, but well the main thing was, he didn’t want to die or kill himself or anything like that. He wasn’t suicidal, this was… different. 

A shake that wouldn’t go, a ringing in his brain that wouldn’t stop, a chill that wouldn’t leave. 

Brad was at his parent’s house anyway and Ray’s stomach churned just thinking about interrupting. So, crisis hotline it was. At least he was calling someone, so it wasn’t like Brad could get pissed at him again. 

He took a deep breath and pressed his thumb down. 

_“Hello?”_

“Ah hi.” Ray paused to swallow thickly. “I don’t normally call, I usually talk to this friend of mine, but he’s – er – busy and I don’t want to bother him. He’s really emotionally constipated but he’s a good listener you know, and he stops me overthinking shit. But I just can’t make my head shut up today.” 

Ray took a shaky breath and the voice on the other side just said, _“Oh?”_

“Yeah, I’ve um struggled with this shit for a while, since high school I guess or maybe before. There’s this pit that sits in my chest and every now and then it just… sucks any happiness or calm right out of me. Like a fucking vacuum. And, and I try and do shit but it feels like nothing matters and I can’t settle to anything, like I can’t focus enough to read or watch anything, I don’t have the energy to go running with Brad or any of the other guys. Drinking helps a little, but I just end up feeling even worse afterwards and weed just sends my thoughts spiralling.” 

_“Oh.”_

Ray huffed a laugh, “Yeah, ‘oh’. I don’t know, it’s not like I don’t have friends and shit, Brad’s doing the best he can, and the others help as well. I can always count on Dirty Earl finding some shit for me to fix, makes me feel important for a little while. But really, I’m not all that close to the other guys, no shit it’s better than high school but… I don’t know, I’m younger than a lot of them, so it feels like I’m not cool enough cus; Rudy’s a fucking ninja and he and Pappy have this whole married couple thing going on; Q-tip and Christeson are like one brain in two bodies; Nate, Poke, and Kocher are Brad’s friends mostly. I talk to Gabe sometimes? But he’s more friends with Chaffin and Manimal.” 

Ray laughed, “You’re gonna love this one, Gabe’s Mexican and Chaffin has like, a confederate flag hanging in his bedroom but they’re borderline fucking, which makes as much sense as a hooker with no genitals. Actually, they could still suck you off and give you hand jobs. Huh, bad analogy but you know what I mean right?” 

_“Yeah, I know what you mean.”_ The voice was warm, with a little baby drawl, east coast, Virginia maybe. It was nice. 

Ray smiled to himself and rubbed his nails against his leg, “I guess I mean, I don’t really have a best best friend, like someone I don’t share with someone else. I love Brad really, but he’s known Eric and Poke longer and they just seem closer, you know?” 

_“Yeah, I get that.”_ The voice said. 

Ray let his shoulders drop and he flopped back onto his bed, “I think some of it comes from my dad. He wasn’t around, I've got no clue what he looks like or where the fuck he went. It never really bothered me; Brad’s adopted, and he had this whole teenage, ‘you’re not my real parent’s’ freak out and got this fucking horrific tramp stamp, but I never did any of that shit. I figure a guy that'd leave my mom was a fucking idiot and worth jack shit.” 

_“Why do you think it comes from that then?”_ the voice said, most words yet. Ray supposed you were paid to listen on a crisis hotline. 

“Well, if it didn’t affect me consciously, it’s most likely affected me subconsciously, and started to leak through. I missed a key figure during my primary socialisation phrase, no other guy ever filled the father figure spot, especially not my mom’s boyfriend that’s for fucking sure.” 

_“No one?”_

Ray shrugged, “I’ve got ones now, some of the guys are like older brothers, and I guess like a dad sometimes, but it’s come a little late. It could also be from a lack of strong friendships in primary and secondary socialisation, which has bred a more self-critical attitude.” 

_“Did you do psychological by any chance?”_ the voice said, with a little amusement in their voice. 

“Nah, philosophy but I like to read and analysing things is fun.” 

The voice hummed and Ray continued, “You know you’re a really good listener homes, much better than Brad, he would've told me I’m a whiskey tango fuck-up by now.” 

_“Oh,”_ the voice said, with a hint of concern. Ray just laughed. 

“Nah homes, it’s a term of endearment coming from Brad, he says it like he’s pissed or something, but his mouth always twitches and sometimes he fucks up and says it in this sappy fond way. That’s the best.” 

_“What else do your friends do, that make you happy I mean?”_

Ray hummed, “Nate gets me books and talks with me about them. He’s such a fucking nerd, he carries like ten pens on him all the time and wears chinos and has a fucking satchel. And yet, he’s really cool, like how does that work. Fucking Poke is always ranting about the white man while claiming to be every minority under the sun, that shit’s just funny especially when Brad calls him out on his bullshit. And Rudy tries to force feed everyone this all organic, vegan protein shakes and talks about his chi and dharma and tell me shit like ‘I love your eyes brother, they’re really balanced today.’ What the fuck does that even mean?” 

He's laughing now; that weight, that pit, shrinking into the background as the guy - it was probably a guy - laughed warmly in his ear. 

_“I think that’s cool.”_ The voice said, he was definitely smiling. Ray bet it was a pretty fucking smile. 

“Yeah, well of course you would, you’re a happy-fucking-clappy crisis hotline person.” 

_“Oh, this ain't actually the crisis hotline.”_ The voice said and Ray’s calm feeling evaporated like a puddle on a hot-as-balls day. 

“What?” Ray said, a little too loudly as he sat up. 

The voice hesitated before saying, _“You got the number wrong, it’s zero seven, not zero eight. I get it a lot, you’re just the first person not to check.”_

“Huh.” Ray said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I think I’ll just-” the empty, cold feeling in his stomach was crawling back, his hands felt a little numb and he shivered. 

_“Wait! Wait, it’s fine really, I wasn’t doin’ anything, you’re not botherin’ me.”_

Ray gulped, “I don’t-” 

_“You’re not botherin’ me, really, I promise.”_ The voice said softly but surely. Ray gulped in a shaky breath. _“You need someone, right? I can’t say I’ll be good at it, I ain’t the best with words, but stay, at least until you’re feelin’ better or your friend’s back.”_

Ray just focused on breathing for a minute. He’s spilled his heart out to a complete stranger – he was planning on that anyway, just ended up being the wrong damn person – and it did help – he didn’t think about the guys warm laughter, no sir not at all – but he’s burdening the wrong damn person. 

Still his mouth opened, on its own no thoughts involved, and he said, “If you’re sure homes.” 

_“I’m sure. My name’s Walt by the way.”_

“Ray.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt credit: https://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/173130070715/i-tried-to-call-a-crisis-hotline-but-got-one  
> “I tried to call a crisis hotline but got one number off and started ranting for 10 minutes before you got to speak and tell me I got the wrong number but now you’re worried about me and telling me not to hang up” AU


End file.
